Closet Series
by Vashti
Summary: Buffy and Oz have a thing. They're not really sure what it is, and it pretty much changes every time they see each other...but it's definitely a thing. Definitely. Please note that the rating is for the series. Each story is individually rated.
1. Cantaloupe Island

**Title**: Cantaloupe Island**  
Series**: Closet**  
Author**: Vashti**  
Disclaimer**: Joss Whedon, et al, own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it's characters and all thing pertaining thereto. I make nor do I intend to make any profit from this story.**  
Summary**: "And this is what you've doing with your Fridays all winter? When we weren't fighting for our lives, I mean."**  
Spoiler**: AU**  
Length**: 2450 words**  
Characters**: Buffy, Willow, Oz**  
Author's Note**: written for the fanfic100 challenge on livejournal. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

Cantaloupe Island  
by vashti

_"Most bands know more than three chords." Oz  
"Yeah, but that's just fruity jazz bands." Devon_

_"We have a marching jazz band?" Buffy  
"Yeah, but, you know, since the best jazz is improvisational, we'd be going off in all directions, banging into floats... scary." Oz_

_*  
_

Knowing that she looked nervous – and feeling like an idiot because she knew she looked nervous – Buffy followed Willow down the narrow creaky stairway. Despite the dim stairwell, they seemed to be headed toward a surprisingly well lit basement. Buffy did her best not to bend over and peak out at what was bellow.

There is nothing to worry about, she told herself. Willow wouldn't lead us into a vampire den or something.

Not on purpose.

As if she could hear her friend's thoughts, the witch in question turned around and glared at Buffy.

"What?"

"Stop thinking so hard!" she hissed.

Buffy's eyes widened. "You really did read my mind?"

Rolling her eyes, Willow stopped on the stairs and whispered, "No! But I swear I can feel them. And if you grip the banister any harder it's going to break, Buffy. It's already creaking."

"Oops?"

Willow sighed. "C'mon. They're already starting."

Still paused on the stair, Buffy said, "That's live?" She hurried after the redhead, standing behind a solid looking steel door. "Shouldn't you knock or something."

"Ruin the groove."

Buffy's eyebrows rose. "Ruin the groove?"

Willow colored and ducked her head. "They just don't like it."

"No, tell me more about this 'groove' of which you speak."

"Buffy!"

"You sound like an aficionado."

Willow brightened. "Hey! Nice word usage."

Buffy preened. "Thank you. I've been trying. Think anyone will notice."

"You keep dropping SAT words like that and heck yeah. The geek boys will be all over-- Oh! Music's stopped!" Willow twisted the door handle – apparently not locked – and pushed her way in. Heads went up. "Hey all."

A wave of smiles and greetings went up from the gathering of… Buffy counted heads and came up with about ten, but people were starting to get up ad move around now that they were between songs. Two people slipped past her and Willow and went stomping up the stairs behind. Someone else approached.

"Wills."

Buffy turned at the warmth in Oz's voice. "Oz?"

"Oz!" The two embraced. Oz extended a hand to Buffy over Willow's shoulder. The redhead giggled. "Hey Buffy. Didn't know you were into jazz."

Buffy took the hand. "Generally speaking, not so much. Been writing on yourself again Oz?" Willow broke from his embrace and took the hand in question in her own, studying it.

"There was a paper shortage on the quad this afternoon."

Willow shook her head. "So long as there are no numbers from hot girls somewhere in all this…this."

"What is the meaning of this phrase 'hot…girls…'?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You two crazy kids."

"Hey Oz!" He turned at his name. "Jazz is improvisational, not self-playing."

Giving them both a quick half-smile, and Willow's hand an affectionate squeeze, Oz left them to take his place on the other side of the room. "So you say, Lexie, but I think you're not giving the instruments enough credit."

Buffy lost the rest of their conversation as she followed Willow across the room to, what looked like, the corner section of someone's sofa. "Best seats in the house?" she asked.

"Definitely the most comfortable."

"Works for me."

Comfortably snug, their school bags tucked under their seat, both women turned their attention to the band. Buffy leaned over and asked Willow who all everyone was.

"Oz you obviously know…" Buffy nodded. "…is on bass. The girl right in front of him—"

"The one he was talking to?"

"Uh huh. That's Alexis, or Lexie. She had one of the lead guitars. The other lead guitar is Marco—"

"Two lead guitars?"

Willow nodded. "They trade off. You'll see. Anyway, Norm is on drums."

"Oooh, Normy," Buffy purred, eyes lighting up. She could see his wide green eyes from their seat, and the muscles in his arms played over themselves as he twirled a drumstick between his fingers. His dirty blond hair was cropped short but still managed to look disheveled and when he smiled… "Wills, you have to introduce me."

"Nuh uh. First off…he's way too young for you. Like way."

Buffy turned on her friend, shifting in the sofa. "No!"

"Totally."

"Man!"

"You and every other person of the female persuasion who has walked in here. He's a nice kid though. Imagine when he's actually old enough to go to college."

Buffy groaned, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifted back around.

"He's also attached, so even if he was legal—"

"Oh just stop rubbing it in. He's unavailable."

"Sorry Buff. Any-way… Um, on the keyboard is Camille. They also have a couple of singers. You saw them when we came in."

"Those two that left when we came in?"

"Yup. Kyle and Skyler."

"Wow, that's randomly—"

"Rhymie," Willow finished with a nod. "They know. They're not amused. Which means, of course, the band teases them about it all— Oh! They're starting!"

From where they were sitting, Buffy could see Oz's fingers plucking at the bass' strings. He was sitting on a stool, half crouched over the long black thing. It was weird hearing just the baseline – no drums, no guitars, no keyboard – but it was like he was pulling at whatever controlled her heartbeat. Without giving it conscious thought her foot began to move to the beat he was creating. She glanced over at Willow and saw that her friend's head was moving, short hair swinging, and realized that her head was moving too. Willow noticed her looking and smiled.

The drums came in then, soft and sibilant. Buffy turned from Willow, wondering how the heck had Uber-Unattainable Norm had managed that.

She leaned over. "Are those mini-rakes?" she whispered.

Willow raised a brow.

"Those things he's using on the drums."

"Oh! I think they're called whisks or something?"

"Like egg-beaters?" That got her an elbow in the side. "What?" But Willow had given up on her. Rolling her eyes, Buffy turned her eyes back on the band. And caught Oz staring at her. Buffy colored and silently promised to hold all comments to the end, thank you.

The guitars and keyboard came in then and Buffy's mouth opened in an O of silent wonder. "Wow."

"I know."

This was so not the jazz her mom used to listen to. Buffy became distantly aware of her body swaying with Willow's in time to the music. Her eyes drifted from player to player, lingering on Norm and then on Oz. Just as Norm's muscles had moved as he'd fiddled with his drumsticks, Buffy noticed that pulling at the bass' thick strings caused the muscles in his lower arm to jump and shift in time to the music. She was fascinated.

Then the two lead guitars moved into some crazy dueling solo she couldn't have seen coming if it had been loaded on a freight train and she had been standing on the tracks. It felt like she had been run over either way. Their combined playing was steady, relentless, impossible to hold on to as it ran and skipped and made her want to get up and do something with her body even as it pulled on her eyelids, tried to drown her in a wall of sound.

She felt herself beginning to succumb and found she didn't mind surrendering. Oz's eyes met hers and then they closed.

"Oh wow." The song had stopped.

"I know."

Buffy's eyes flew open. "Is it always like that?"

Willow grinned. "Sometimes its better."

"Oh wow."

"I know."

"And this is what you've doing with your Fridays all winter? When we weren't fighting for our lives, I mean."

"When the end of the world," Willow agreed. "Isn't it great?"

Buffy gave her a friendly punch in the arm. "And you didn't tell me!"

Willow punched her back. "You said you didn't like jazz!"

"Apparently I don't like my mother's jazz."

Shrugging, the redhead said, "They do classic stuff too. Some things just sound better live. So-o…" Willow nibbled on her lower lip. She glanced up and Buffy saw as she touched on Oz, deep in conversation with the girl on keyboard. "Ya like?"

Throwing her hands up, Buffy made a rude sound in her throat. "Like? Love!" She threw her arms around Willow's shoulder.

_"One, two, three, and…"_

This time, Buffy didn't fight the pull of the music. She could sense movement in front of her, but in the darkness behind her eyelids the room had taken on an insubstantiality, had redefined it's physical space, until she didn't have a real sense of where people or things were. She almost didn't have a real sense of the sofa beneath her.

At one point someone hovered in front of her – which she thought was extremely rude – but then they were gone and Buffy could put it out of her mind.

When the song was finally over, Buffy didn't know whether she was going to melt into her seat or fly through the ceiling. "Are you sure it gets better than this Wills?"

No answer.

"Willow?" Buffy pushed herself out of the sofa-piece, looking frantically for her friend. Nothing seemed out of place. Heck, the band was mingling with the couple other people who were just sittin' around and watching. "Maybe she went to the bathroom?"

But her stuff was gone.

"Buffy."

"Cripes!" She jumped, hand over her heart, and turned around. "Oz! Jeez, man, don't _do_ that!" she hissed. "What is it with you preternatural types?"

"Scaring the Slayer is the highlight of our day," Oz said with such solemnity that Buffy stared at him really hard and went, "Really?"

Oz shrugged. "Eh…depends on the day."

"_Oz_. Anyway, where's Will?"

"Emergency."

"Something up with her parents? They have her cell phone number?"

"No. Actually they do have her number, but no. Not parents. Science lab."

"Science…" Buffy's brows drew together. "What kind of emergency can a geology lab have? Volcano suddenly appear on campus, in which case I seriously think I'd be the better person to call in a situation such as this."

"Uh I think it had more to do with the biology lab."

"Biology—"

"Remember the rats that got out from their cages over the weekend?"

"Oh. Yeah. G-ross. So glad our dorms are on the other side of campus."

Oz's lips twitched. "You'd think the Slayer would be beyond rat-fear."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "This has nothing to do with being the Slayer and everything to do with being a girl."

"Even after that one time when—?"

"Let's not discuss and pretend that we did?"

Oz shrugged.

"So, what's the Biology lab rats got to do with the Geology lab?"

"Nothing."

"Oz!"

"I didn't say it was Geology. The computer labs. Someone found the rats."

Buffy's eyebrows came together. "So? What does that… Oh. Oooh. Ye-uck."

"That was Willow's impression, too. And since she has the keys to the lab at the moment."

"Aw man. Poor Wills. That so totally sucks. Now…no offense, Oz…but how do you know all this?"

"Well there was the back story that I was already familiar with," he said turning away from her and walking back to his bass guitar. "And I've been practicing reading lips."

Buffy followed. "Seriously."

"Kinda."

"Dude."

One of Oz's shoulders went up as he crouched over his bass. Standing, he slipped it into his soft case. "Anyway, that kinda leaves you SOL."

Buffy's eyebrows came together. "Really? How do you figure that?"

"Well Willow had to take the car back to the dorm—"

"F—"

"So I figured you wouldn't mind a ride." Oz turned around, bass over one shoulder. The singers with the twin-y names were standing just outside the door. Buffy could see them talking through the open door.

"Admit it, Oz, you can so totally read minds."

"Eh…"

Oz made a smooth right turn, glancing, as he did, at Buffy. The wind through the open windows set her fluttering around her face. She pulled it out of her lip gloss – not for the first time.

"Sorry 'bout the lack of A/C."

"Huh?" She glanced up over at him. "Oh! Please, Oz, it's no big. It's just further proof that I really should lay off the uber-sticky lip gloss. Yesterday I got back to my room and discovered a bug had gotten stuck to my lips. So not joy."

"Doesn't sound fun."

"They lapsed into companionable silence.

Oz pulled up in front of Buffy's dorm – well, as close as he could get without driving the van over the grounds. "Looked like you were enjoying yourself."

He was glad he mentioned it. Buffy's face light up like a little gremlin inside her skull had just turned on the lights. "Ohmigod that was amazing! Is it like that every week?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it's better."

Buffy's grin was overwhelming. "That's what Willow said. Have I told you guys lately how cute you two are?"

"Eh…not this week."

Laughing, Buffy hit the lock on the door. She reached across and gave him a hug. "Thanks for the ride, Oz. Woulda been a long ride back otherwise."

"I dunno. You mighta had a chance to kill something on the way."

"Gee thanks, Oz."

"Always happy to be of service."

"So…if I wanted to come back next week? Assuming something Apocalyptic doesn't come up."

"Permanent invite. Short of that Apocalypse thing."

"They always seem to have the worst timing…" she said, pushing the door open.

Oz could only nod.

"Thanks again."

"No big."

"So big, Oz. So. Big. Sorta kinda huge even. Night!"

He watched her cut across the lawns until she was out of sight. He was glad Willow had finally convinced her to come. It had been a long time since he'd seen that light in Buffy's eyes.

Fin[ite]


	2. Closet

**Title**: Closet**  
Series**: Closet**  
Author**: Vashti**  
Disclaimer**: Joss Whedon, et al, own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it's characters and all thing pertaining thereto. I make nor do I intend to make any profit from this story.**  
Summary**: "I don't know. You always seem to be up on all the current news to me." "Well _sure_…when the end of the world is involved."**  
Spoiler**: AU**  
Length**: 715 words**  
Characters**: Buffy, Oz**  
Author's Note**: written for the fanfic100 challenge on livejournal. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

Closet  
by vashti

"Why am I always the last to know?" Buffy lamented.

Oz shrugged. "I don't know. You always seem to be up on all the current news to me."

"Well _sure_…when the end of the world is involved. God forbid I should be kept in the loop about normal stuff."

"Buffy, it's your loop," Oz pointed out, an eyebrow climbing.

"Yeah…well…" She stubbed one sneakered toe into the sidewalk on the back side of the campus. "…apparently I'm good at keeping secrets from myself."

Oz smiled. "You've had lots of practice."

Buffy made a rude sound and rolled her eyes skyward. "Lying to _other_ people! I don't count!"

" 'Parently you do."

Groaning, she dropped her head into her hands. "What about Willow? And Xander?" She was ready to sink into a crouch when Oz's strong hands caught her. "Not that I ever thought of myself as having a particularly strong sense of ego, but I think this may just be a blow to it."

Buffy laughed. "It's not you, Oz."

Both eyebrows went up. "So it's Larry. Henh. Just when I thought he'd gotten that figured out."

He laughed when Buffy playfully attacked him. "Kidding, kidding…"

"You better be, mister. I mean of all the guys we went to high school with. Larry?"

He shrugged.

"That doesn't make up for this being all kinds of screwed up."

Oz's levity disappeared. "If you want—"

"No! I don't want. Or I do want. Oh! You know what I mean! I just…" She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out. "I just don't want to hurt anybody."

Leaning forward, Oz traced a finger down the side of her face and behind her ear, tucking back loose hair. "They'll get over it."

Buffy frowned. "That's not very nice."

He took her arms and drew them over his shoulders. "Still true."

"Do you have any idea how weird it is to be able to look your boyfriend in the eye when you kiss him?"

"Can't say that I've ever had a boyfriend to know."

"Oz!"

He gave her a little half smile.

She pinched him where she could reach him, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a grunt. "What about Willow and Xander?" she persisted.

He shrugged. "What about them?"

"Oz! Hello! Your ex, my two best friends…"

"Exactly. Willow and I aren't dating. You and Willow and Xander are best friends—"

"But you know how Xander—"

"Is dating Anya."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "But you know how Xander is."

"Willing to do anything to keep Anya from being mad at him?"

Well when he put it that way. "Okay, you may have a point there. But what about Willow. Fine, Willow never had a thing for me, but you two shared smoochies. You were her first smoocher."

"Someone else has that spot now."

"Yeah, but, I'm breaking one of the cardinal best girlfriend rules."

He eyed her.

"Thou shalt not date thy best friend's boyfriend."

Oz settled his hands on Buffy's hips. He felt the tension in her muscles. "It'll be okay, Buff."

"I don't know. I've had a pretty good run of luck with this set of friends. And when I thought about maybe losing them…I didn't think it'd be over a _boy_. I thought demon for sure. Several demons. All at once."

"Buffy…"

"I just don't wanna screw this up. This this, or that this."

"I know."

Her lips had turned down into a distinctly mopey frown.

"You won't."

"Are you sure?"

Seeing that she had given up on being silly, he wished he that he could tell her something more reassuring than, "Pretty sure." Oz brought his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. "Even if they get upset, Buffy, they won't be forever. You said it yourself. You're best friends. I'm just that guy."

"You're not just that guy."

An eyebrow went up.

"You're _my_ that guy."

Oz chuckled then brushed his lips against hers. "It'll be okay. And if it's not…I'll bite them."

_"Oz!"_

Fin[ite]


	3. What You Can Do with an Hour

**Title:** What You Can Do With an Hour  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Disclaimer:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, et al. I do not, nor do I plan to, make any profit from this story.  
**Summary: **Willow needs Oz's help in dealing with her recalcitrant patient.  
**Spoiler: **AU from whenever it was Oz came back to UC Sunnydale  
**Rating:** um...PG  
**Length:** 1,047 words  
**Author****'s Notes:** I wrote this at work, but it's short enough that there shouldn't be any glaring problems.  
**AN2:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

What You Can Do With an Hour  
by Vashti

"Stop plying me with tea! It just makes me have to blow my nose."

"Being congested makes you have to blow your nose, Buffy."

She glared at Willow, holding a steaming mug of something admittedly fragrant under her nose. Which she turned up. "Hah! Shows what you know. See that stack of tissues. It grows exponentially every time one of you makes drink something hot."

"Oh come on Buf—"

"No."

Willow rolled her eyes in exasperation and kneeled up off the bed. She went to the door. "Oz!"

He and Buffy were wearing identical expressions of pain when he entered. "Dog ears, Will."

"Slayer ears, Will."

"Oh! Sorry, forgot. Hey, what? Slayer ears? Since when?" If not for the oversized mug of hot liquid she would have put her hands on her hips.

"Apparently since I got sick."

"Hunh. That's interesting. You should tell Giles."

"Why, so he can put it in his journal? He's not even officially a Watcher anymore but half the time when I pass his place at half past the middle of the night I can see him in the window writin' away."

"Maybe he just likes journaling?"

Buffy frowned at Oz. "No one likes journaling that much. We need to get him set up."

"True though that may be, Willow hastily broke in before the conversation could get too far off track, "you, Missy, need to drink this tea."

"I swear—"

"Oz, get her to drink the tea please." Willow thrust the mug at him and left the room. Thanks!

"Hey, where are you going?!" Buffy half got off her bed, but Oz stood in the way of her legs.

"Some of us have homework to do!"

"It's college!"

"Exactly!"

Disgusted with her genius friend, the one now out of earshot not the one still standing in her way, Buffy flopped back on her bed. She made room for Oz as he sat on the narrow bed, steaming mug of tea still in hand.

"So I thought Slayers didn't get sick."

"We don't. We get sniffles. Actually…" She settled herself more deeply into the pillows propped up behind her. "Actually according to the not-as-cute-as-he'd-be-on-tv-medi-drama doctor, I have chest congestion."

"You were expecting cuter?"

"Oz, let's stick to the topic at hand."

"I don't know. That was a very long qualifier you gave him. Sounds like the topic at hand."

She made a face. "As if that means anything. This is me we're talking about. The only time you can get two seriously serious sentences out of me is when I'm yelling at Dawn or when it's all going down the tubes. Like how Giles stops stuttering? I stop Buffy-speaking."

"You are kinda reliable that way."

"See."

"So about this not-as-cute-as-he'd-be-on-tv-medi-drama doctor—"

"Hey! On the one hand I am impressed that you managed to say that pretty much word for word…"

"I try."

"On the other hand, one track mind much? Sheesh." She took the cup he handed her and sipped at it.

"And yet no answering of question."

"And observant to boot! You are nefarious Mr. Osborne. Were you always nefarious or is being a Scooby corrupting you?"

"Dingoes Ate My Baby."

"Huh?"

"The band. Devon. I was with them before I met you guys."

"You're right. You were corrupt before we met you. And yet my Slayer sense didn't go off at all."

"Not corrupt. Nefarious."

"Oh that's right. And nefariousness is so…normal. I don't think my Slayer sense has a setting for Nefarious."

"Maybe you could get a software update."

Shrugging, Buffy cradled the warm mug in her hands and took a long swallow. "Hmm, good stuff. Will really outdid herself— Hey! You tricked me mister!"

"You were the one who said—"

"Ha!"

They looked up. Willow as standing in the door pointing at Buffy while trying to juggle far too many books in the other. "I knew he'd get you drink the tea."

"Sneaky little puppy," Buffy groused, "hiding behind the tea in question."

Oz slid forward on the bed, ready to help Willow against the war with her books. The books were winning.

His feet hadn't quite made it to the floor when another pair of hands caught the first book before it could slide away from the rest. Feeling the shift, but unaware that she had help, Willow's eyes widened as she bent at the knees in a vain effort to recover what she had lost.

"I-I got it."

Oz slid back against the headboard with Buffy and her pillows. Willow turned to see who was behind her. Her face lit up. "Tara!"

The blond offered her a small, shy smile. "Hi. I…I saw the books and—"

"Thanks! I don't know what came over me."

"Amazement at my rare display at following orders," Buffy supplied, breaking into their moment.

Willow snorted. "Right that was it. I don't know how Oz does it."

Lips thinning, Buffy wholeheartedly agreed.

"Anyway gang, I am off to that wonderful monument to learning—"

"The mall?"

"Buffy!"

"What?"

"I was going to say the library."

"Oh. That."

"Yeah. That." She stuck her tongue out at her friend. "I'll see you guys later. Thanks again, Oz."

He gave her a brief nod as she and Tara turned out of the doorway.

"Well… You didn't growl this time. Not even a little. That's an improvement, isn't it?"

"Major."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Haven't tried to rip her throat out all year."

"I'd have to kill you Oz. Please don't do that."

"I'm a little anti the dying thing myself."

"I'm serious."

"Me too."

She sniffed a little. "Okay." She handed him Mr. Pointy.

They fell into companionable silence as Buffy sipped her tea, now lukewarm, and Oz contented himself with warming himself against her side. His head drifted along the headboard until it touched hers. "So if Slayers don't get sick, why are you in bed?"

"I told you I have the sniffles."

"Hardly bed-worthy."

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how hard it is for me to even get the sniffles? I have to milk this for all it's worth. Besides, look at it out there. It's all…sunny. And happy. With people playing and, and…and frolicking". She shuddered. "Who'd want to go out there?"

"Good question."

Fin[ite]


	4. Different

**Title:** Different From Every Other Time You Tried It  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Disclaimer:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, et al. I do not, nor do I plan to, make any profit from this story.  
**Summary: **There are rules.  
**Spoiler: **AU from whenever it was Oz came back to UC Sunnydale  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Length:** 1,306 words  
**Author's Note:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

Different From Every Other Time You Tried It  
by Vashti

"Oz."

"Buffy."

"You're kinda naked."

"Henh. Look at that."

"I'm trying not to!"

"Oh. Right."

"This is all your fault."

"Well it is…my time of the month."

"If you weren't naked and in a cage I'd so go over there and hit me. You. I'd hit you. With something stinging. And painful."

"I thought we agreed not to talk kinky."

"_Oz!"_

"We didn't?"

"Oooh! Y'know, Willow never said you were this frustrating."

"But I'm pretty sure we agreed not to compare exes."

"I'm not comparing exes! I'm just…comparing your…you-ness in the only previous relationship I was privy to."

"Huh."

"Yes. And this is still all your fault. You were the one who was all 'Teh sex iz bad.'"

"I'm pretty sure I never said that."

"I'm paraphrasing."

"You hate meme-speak more than I do."

"Which tells you how frustrated I am. _Now put on some clothes!"_

"All you had to do was demand."

"Ugh!"

"…Better?"

"I don't know. Are you wearing clothes?"

"Everything but a hat."

"It's too warm for a hat."

"Then it's copasetic."

Buffy peaked between her fingers just in case Oz was yanking her chain. Considering he'd been the one to suggest the No-Sex-Until-It's-Permanent policy, he could be rather saucy in his laconic way. But, yes, he was wearing clothes: a black t-shirt that had seen blacker days, long cargo shorts that had seen less-frayed days and sneakers that had probably never been clean. They were in his hand and his socks were bulging out of one of his cargo pockets, but Buffy was willing to let that slide. And then, of course, there was the over-sized dog collar. She saw Oz lift it over his head in her peripheral vision as she fumbled and patted herself down for the keys to his cage. It was a prop, actually, meant to go over the head of an equally oversized dog but Oz was in with the Art Department's prop master, natch, and so he didn't ask too many questions when he borrowed it for a couple of nights every month. Then again they were only a stone's throw from the Hell Mouth. The guy probably assumed werewolf and not kinky sex at all.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Thinking semi-dirty thoughts instead of letting me out of here."

Right. Keys. And just like that her fingertips felt the bite of metal. Buffy pulled them out of breast-pocket, so tiny and non-functional she'd barely thought about checking it, then tossed them to Oz. He caught them one handed. "Show off."

Smirking, or maybe smiling, he undid the lock and let himself out. But didn't walk out.

"Separation anxiety?"

"You're too close still."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So if you could just…"

"Um, yeah, totally. Sorry. You know playful arguing makes me forget the Two Feet rule."

"That you should try to keep the two you have on you at all times?"

"_Oz!"_

"What?"

"It's your rule!"

"So…" He made little shooing motions. Rolling her eyes, Buffy backed up the requisite two feet. "This is so not fair. I always want to kiss you after you change. You look so…"

"Pathetic?"

"Tired. And in need of a good…friend."

"Except I want more than a good…friend after I change."

"Yeah. You and your stupid rules."

Back to her, hand still on the cage door, Oz stopped moving. He became very still and Oz-like. "Do you really want to chuck the rules?"

"Well not all of them. The post-change rules are probably for the best. The other ones, though… Yeah, sometimes…" she answered truthfully. "But what we have is really… It's… It's different from anything I've ever done. And if that's because, I mean if you think the waiting for the sexing is the best way for it to—"

"I do." He turned to look her in the eye, standing very straight and very rigid. Very un-Oz-like.

"Then what's a few thousand cold showers, right? It's not like I don't want to, and it's not like you don't want to. You do want to, right?"

"I do."

"Then we're not, like, freakish or anything. Except for the obvious of course?"

"Two twenty-somethings in a committed relationship who have agreed not to have sex until some un-figured out time in the future because they think that's best."

"No, you idiot, a Slayer and a werewolf. Although I guess you're right."

"Do you—"

"Sometimes. I mean cold showers are cold. And Mom always did say something worth having is worth waiting for. And…." Buffy bit her lower lip. "And this isn't going to work, is it?"

"It might."

"You really think?"

Oz shook his head, slowly. "Not forever."

"But it's really good right now. It's different and it's intense and it's funny and it's oddly non-pressure-y."

"I was going for non-pressure-y."

"Oz…you're standing too close."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Back up, buddy."

He frowned but relented.

"So this is just as hard for you as it is for me."

He smirked. "Harder."

Buffy rolled her eyes and groaned. "All right. That's it. Serious grown up conversation over. Out of the cave."

"Ladies first."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You just want to watch my a— Aah!" Buffy jumped back into Oz. Who caught her bare arms, dropping his sneakers.

"Xander!" she shouted. Anything to ignore the fire spreading from Oz's hands, his body, into her skin. He let her go once it was clear that they were safe, but he didn't step back.

"What happened to Slayer sense?"

"Slayer sense? Slayer sense! Slayer sense only works on big nasties."

"I could have been a big nasty."

"While that's true in theory, apparently the ancients didn't consider humans a threat to Slayer and so you'd have to walk just a bit more on the wild side for it to go off. Now what the heck are you doing here? And why are determined to scare me half to life!"

"So even if I was, like, some evil murdering—"

"I'll show you evil murdering whatever-else-you-were-gonna say," Buffy muttered. Oz wouldn't move. Oz wouldn't speak. But he was breathing on her neck. Not hot and breathy and creepy (or even sexy) but she could feel him blazing behind her, breathing on her….scenting her?

Her adrenaline jumped. Oz took a deep breath.

"So even if I was—"

"Xander! Slayer sense is for bump in the nights. That's it. Not humans. Now _why_ are you _here_?"

"Oh!" He jumped a little, as if he had forgotten himself. "That. Breakfast. I was up, I couldn't sleep…"

"Had a fight with Anya?"

Xander scratched the back of his head. "I wouldn't call it that."

"A really big fight?"

"Kinda the opposite of fight."

"Do we really want to know?"

"Not unless you have a gallon of brain bleach handy."

"Got it. So….you came to, um, drown your sorrows in breakfast?"

Xander perked again. "Yeah. I Know Oz is always starving the morning after."

"Mmhmm."

Buffy shivered.

"And you've been here all night doing the make-sure-he-doesn't-snack-on-the-general-public thing. I figured, why not get in some morning grazing."

Buffy thought about it for a moment. About how she was in fact hungry, how it had been a long night, how Oz had driven them to the cave where his cage was hiding, and how all she really, really wanted him to do now as put his hands back on her. "Yeah. Breakfast sounds great. Tom's is always great this time of almost-morning."

"All right!" Xander clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "I am all about the eating. My truck or your van?"

"Uh…"

"Truck," Oz murmured behind her, flat calm and impersonal.

"I haven't seen you in, like, days Xan. How 'bout I ride with you? Oz has to drive me back to the house anyway."

"Cool!"

Buffy followed Xander out of the caves, but it was a few long minutes before Oz followed them and got into his van.

Fin[ite]


	5. Love Ridden

**Title:** Love Ridden  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** "Love ridden I've looked at you...but I can't tonight, baby." Fiona Apple  
**Length:** 1,448 words  
**Disclaimer:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, et al. I do not, nor do I plan to, make any profit from this story.  
**Dedication:** to Karen, the list momma for OzMIA, and all of OzMIA. You guys rock my wolf-watch-socks.  
**Author's Note:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

Love Ridden  
by Vashti

Oz stiffened as he sensed a presence behind him, then relaxed when his nose told him who it was.

"Oz…what're you doing?" Buffy's voice was barely audible, but it was enough. Her hand touched his shoulder, thumb rubbing in circles around the bony edge.

"Staring at Willow," he answered in kind.

"I can see that." She lightly pinched his upper arm then her hand was in motion again. "But _why_ are you staring at Willow."

He didn't answer her. Didn't want to answer her.

"Oz."

His eyes didn't move and he had nothing to say.

Her hand stilled. He could smell salt when she asked him, "Do you still… Do you love her?"

"I was looking for you, actually," he said softly. "I was looking for you but you weren't here. Willow was—"

"So this is my fault?"

"—here instead," he went on as if she hadn't spoken at all, "and I just got…stuck. Here. Looking at her."

"Because I wasn't here."

"No. No, Buffy." He turned to look at her. "Because Willow's still in here. Deep in here and it… I don't know. But if I stand still too long there's a part of me that…" He didn't want to say it. He and Buffy had been friends a long time, but they weren't friends anymore. And he didn't know that what they were now could survive what he and Willow had been before.

"There's a part of you that belongs to her. And it always will."

Oz dropped his eyes.

"I…I understand." Oz could hear the frown in her voice as her hand began to move on his arm again. "I don't like it. Hate it actually. But I understand. There's part of me that will always—"

Willow shifted on the bed, turning away from the nearly sub-vocal conversation toward the window.

"Like I was saying, there's a part of me that will always belong to Angel. Y'know. First love and all that crap."

Oz nodded, eyes still focused on a point somewhere beyond her right side.

"But you didn't answer my question."

He looked up, frowning. "What question?"

"Do you still love her? Willow. Do you still love Willow?"

He thought about it. The quick answer was Yes. Part of him always would. But the quick answer was also No. They rift between them was too complete, too deep. And Willow didn't seem to be affected by it at all.

"Sometimes."

Buffy laughed silently. "There might be a little too much honesty in this relationship."

Catching her hand where it was still moving on his arm, he stopped her. "Buffy I—"

She shook her head. "I know. I think I know. I just…" She rubbed her forehead with the back of her free hand. "It just doesn't make a girl happy when she comes home from a long night of slaying to find her secret boyfriend drooling over her roomie, her ex."

Oz smiled. "I wasn't drooling."

"Are you sure. After a while when you're staring…your face gets numb. You can't really feel the—"

He kissed her hand. "I was stuck. But I wasn't drooling."

"If you say so."

He pulled her close. "I do."

They stared at each other for long moments, the sound of their breathing and Willow's breathing competing with the whirring of their minds.

Oz broke the silence. "I can't stay here."

Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"It's better with you here but—"

"I can help you forget."

Oz frowned. "Buffy, I thought we decided that we weren't—"

"We did. We totally did. But give a girl a little credit." She brought their joined hands to her mouth, pressing the space where their palms met to her lips, and the back of his hand to her cheek. " 'Sides, I've got to free you from the clutches of an evil witch."

***

"Hey Willow, come look."

Brush in hand, Willow followed the trail of long blue braids flashing in the corner of her eyes out of her room, down the hall and into the common room. She tried to move quietly. It was ridiculously early, particularly for a Saturday, but she and her lab-mates were trying to get into the lab before either the grad students or the other ambitious undergrads got there. They'd already learned from experience that that was pretty doggone early.

"What is it, Tivvy?" Willow called out in her best stage whisper. "I'm almost ready to go."

"Look at the two of them." The Black girl flipped her electric blue braids over her shoulder, nearly catching Willow across the face. Luckily it was a regular habit and so Willow ducked, also out of habit. "Aren't they cute? I found them like that but with the television on."

Willow's face broke into apoplexies of adorableness. "They _are_ cute! It looks like they fell over while they were watching TV last night!"

"And Oz landed on Buffy's hip."

They stood around cooing until their other lab partner got them moving again.

"It's a nice hip," Oz murmured softly. Most of the floor was still sleeping.

"Don't get too comfortable down there," Buffy muttered back. "My arm's asleep."

Oz grunted. "That's my fault." He shifted and used his free hand to lever himself up with. He loosened the grip he had on Buffy's hand.

Her fingers quickly tightened around his palm. "I meant this one," Buffy said, eyebrows slowly climbing as she indicated the arm she had fallen asleep on with a nod. "That arm…that arm is perfectly fine."

"It's red and it has shirt-lines on it."

"Uh huh."

"And it's flushed and sweaty."

"Sure is."

"And it's at an awkward angle."

"I've heard that's the best kind." Buffy pulled on Oz's hand. He fell into her so that his head was on his shoulder. "That's not really what I envisioned."

Oz smiled.

"Y'know if you hadn't fallen asleep at exactly the right angle, we'd have some 'splainin' to do."

Nodding against her rumpled shirt, he said, "I know."

"How long do you think we can keep this a secret? How long do you want to?"

"I'm good for as long as you are, Buff."

She craned her neck to look over at him. "Really? 'Cause I think if a guy asked me to be his girlfriend and then asked me not to tell any of our friends I'd be (a) a little suspicious and (2) a little hurt. Which is not why—"

"I understand. It's not ideal but…" He shrugged. "I can wait."

Smiling, Buffy shook her head and turned away. "You are the strangest person, Oz. You know that?"

"Even on the Hellmouth."

"Especially on a Hellmouth."

"Although technically I guess I'm not a person anymore…"

Buffy snorted. Loudly. She looked him in the eye. "Then neither am I. I say we catch some real Z's in a real bed. Come back to the room with me? No way Willow will be back before eleven. That's, what, four or five uninterrupted hours? No one else will come up this way either. The one thing Giles has been really good about since I got this crazy schedule is letting me sleep in whenever I can. What do you say?"

Nothing, in true Oz fashion. But Buffy was used to it and let him think.

"Last night was fun—"

"But…"

"—and it worked. Just wait until the next big Chess Day at Giles' place."

"What big Chess Day?"

"But I don't think this is a good idea. Me. You. Two beds and several hours to kill."

Buffy waggled her eyes. "Several hours, huh?"

Giving her a small shake of his head, Oz brought their hands up to his mouth and breathed over their linked fingers. "I'd love to stay, Buff, and I'm tired enough to think that all we'd actually do is sleep. But we can't sleep forever. And you, by yourself with no distractions, are too tempting."

"That's got to be one of the best let downs ever. You just told me no, and yet I feel dangerously sexy."

"You are dangerously sexy."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Gratuitous compliments not needed."

"And not given."

"O-oz."

He stood, pulling Buffy up with him. He brought her close. "Someday it will all be right. Telling the gang. Us. You'll just know. We both will."

"Think so?"

He smiled. "Hope so."

She threw her arms around him. He could almost feel words welling up in her chest but, just as he was, she seemed to push them back down before they could make it out of her mouth. "Night, Oz."

"Night, Buffy." He pulled away. "Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"Ha. If only."

Fin[ite]


	6. Sometimes a Spade is a Spade

**Title:** Sometimes a Spade is a Spade  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Character(s):** Xander, Oz, Buffy  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** There's a lot of talking, but not as much listening.  
**Length:** ~1,250 words  
**Disclaimer:** I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.  
**Dedication:** All the people who keep asking for more :)  
**Author's Notes:** The series meanders on in its own odd way. Please note that this is unbeta'd. Feel free to spot-beta :)  
**AN2:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

Sometimes a Spade is a Spade  
by Vashti

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Oz, you ever notice we say 'Hey' a lot?"

"Not really."

" 'Not really' we don't say 'hey' a lot, or 'not really' you never noticed."

"Oh we say it a lot."

"Ah ha."

"Just never thought about it much."

"Oh."

" 'Hey' being on of those standard friendly kind of greetings."

"Yeah, well…it was one of those pondery kind of thoughts that just, y'know, sideswipe you mid-thought.

"I know those."

"Oz, my friend, you are the king of those."

"Yeah?"

"In your own laconic way? Oh yeah."

"Henh. Compliment."

"All compliment, my friend. All compliment. What bad things could be said about the Oz-inator?"

Oz's eyebrows furrowed as he gave his friend a look.

Xander stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Sooo, that's a no to the 'Oz-inator'?"

"Pretty much. I'd thought about Ozymandius, though."

"Really? Isn't that all…classic literature-y?"

"Classic poetry, actually."

"That's pretty heavy."

"Eh."

"Might work better as a band name."

"Thought of that, too."

"But then you'd have to ditch Devon."

"Think so? Why?"

"No way Devon's gonna front a band named after someone else."

Oz frowned. "Dude, he's not that bad."

"Maybe not, but he will be if thinks that he won't get the babes due the lead singer."

"Hmm. Point."

The muscles around Xander's eyes jumped as he saw someone or something of interest. His eyes moved beyond Oz, caught on something in the distance.

Oz twisted on his heels.

"Hey!" Xander waved enthusiastically. "Buffy over here!"

The petite blond spotted them and returned the wave. She hurried toward them. "Hey!"

"Hey."

Shaking his head, Xander said, "Y'know you just can't get an enthusiastic greeting out of this guy."

Buffy frowned. "Sure you can."

"Yeah? How?"

"Offer him free food or a free pass to pass to Giles' old vinyl collection."

Xander looked at his friend. "What she say true?"

A small laugh escaped Oz.

"Buffster!"

Grinning, Buffy tipped an imaginary hat. "Just doin' m'job. Hey, I need to talk to Oz for a minute? It's not, like, personal or anything, but it is a little detail oriented and I just want to make sure—"

Xander waved her explanations away. "No problem, Buff. I found out the hard way that if I've got some major splainin' to do with one of the guys at the site that I need to get away from the action. Make sure he knows what I'm talking about and, heck, that _I_ know what I'm talking."

"Thanks, Xander! You hanging around campus?"

"Uh…" He glanced at his watch and then at Oz who was watching the exchange with the same rapt attention he would have used if they were talking to him. "You still want to get together later, man?"

"Absolutely. Gotta plan the party for Doug."

"_Right!_ Right! Jeez louise…I'm glad one of us remembered." Xander stepped forward to give Buffy a quick hug. "Later, Oz."

"Yup."

"Doug?"

"One of the guys working for Xander," Oz replied. "At the site. He's getting married. Me, Xander and one of the other guys are planning the bachelor party."

Buffy waved her hands. "I don't want to know." She started walking off the path and toward the big trees at one corner of the quad. "Though I bet his fiancée does."

Oz bumped her arm. "You don't trust us?"

"You, sure." Then she stopped. "Maybe." She frowned. "I don't know."

Oz chuckled. "We're being good. Doug's not the kinda guy who would appreciate a typical bachelor's party."

"Uh huh." But she started walking again.

"So. Buffy."

"Yeah." She glanced at him. "Oz."

"You wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Um…" But she kept her thoughts to herself until they were under the shade of the trees. She started worrying her hands. "This is a little more awkward than I'd thought it'd be."

Oz's eyebrows drew together. "Really? I've never thought of myself as intimidating. Maybe back in my black hair, Sharpie-pen-as-nail-polish days. But I've been feeling more colors-of-the-rainbow than my inner dastardly—"

Buffy's lips were suddenly on his, and they were warm and soft and sweetly sticky from some candy she must have had earlier. Her fingers were hot on his face, pulsing with the blood under her skin. He could hear her heart racing. Or was that his heart?

His fingers wound through her hair. Buffy wasn't going to be happy that he'd messed up her twisty up-do but Oz didn't really care—

"He-llo! Earth to Oz?"

"Huh? I—" Oz shook his head.

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "If you were Xander randomly zoning out on me, I wouldn't be surprised."

Oz coughed. He scratched the nape of his neck. "Sorry, Buffy. Just…had a moment."

She snorted. _Did you ever_, it seemed to say. "So I take it you didn't hear _anything_ I said."

"Um…"

"Right, because this wasn't awkward enough before," Buffy muttered, tugging at the loops on the belt of her denim jacket.

Okay, he'd heard _that_. Sooo… Hmm.

"Look, I talked to Willow and she thought that you'd be cool about it, but if it's not something you want to do…"

"Buffy, I'm really sorry—"

"I knew it!"

"—but I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm not just blowing you off."

The cloud over Buffy's face cleared. "Really?"

Oz smiled. "I do sometimes zone out, Buff."

"I don't think of you as a zoner, Oz."

He shrugged. "Happens. So…what am I not blowing you off about?"

"Um, a photo shoot. Thing. I'm taking that photography class and I need to take pictures of a live subject. No more still lifes and scenery for me. And I thought maybe—"

"Sure."

"—I could, like, take pictures of you and your band. That is if you guys are playing again now that you're back home. I mean—"

"Sure."

"—if you don't mind, and all. Sure?"

Oz shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. Gotta make sure the guys are okay with it, but I don't think they'll mind. Well Skylar might not like it—"

"Uh, one of the singers?"

"The girl. She likes singing during practice but isn't into the spotlight. Kyle's a closet diva, though. We're still in contract negotiations with his people about a dressing room."

Buffy's eyebrows rose. "He's got people?"

"No. That's why we're still negotiating."

She grinned.

"Buffy, you wouldn't happen to have had a lollipop recently, would you?"

"Yeah? Why? Is my tongue green?"

Huh. "No reason. So, uh, our next gig is in a couple of days. You're gonna come with Willow?"

"I didn't think Willow was still going to the gigs."

Oz shrugged. "From what I heard she went a couple of times while I was in Tibet but, yeah, no real Willow-spottings since I've been home."

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with trying to eat her girlfriend," Buffy said, brushing it away with a hand.

Oz coughed. "Yeah. Uh, so…how 'bout I pick you up? I'll call you tonight. Let you know when exactly it is we're playing again and we can work out a time to meet up? You can get some pre-show stuff. Y'know, Norm messing around with the sticks, Kyle and Skylar arguing, Lexie throwing paper balls at them. Fun stuff.

Buffy's grin returned. "That sounds so great." Taking one big step forward, she threw her arms around Oz's neck. "Thank you _so_ much, Oz." She stepped back. "You are a total lifesaver."

She smelled like Sour Apple. "No problem."

Fin[ite]


	7. It Already Is pt 1

**Title:** It Already Is  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Character(s):** Buffy, Oz, Willow, Giles  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** When Buffy acts strangely during her photography class assignments Oz knows something's wrong, but no one expected this.  
**Length:** ~6,000 words  
**Disclaimer:** I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.  
**Dedication:** All the people who have kept reading in spite of the long hiatus, dutifully checking the "update me" box. Thank you.  
**Author's Notes:** As you can see, I've been working on this chapter for over a year. Hopefully, it won't feel that way when you read it. It's been broken up into two parts to spare you some of the length.  
**AN2:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

It Already Is  
by Vashti

Part 1

Buffy flashed a smile at Kyle, one of the two singers in Oz's jazz band. "Thanks again, so much, for letting me use you guys as my subjects."

Kyle's smile had, of course, never dimmed. "Not a problem. Any idea when the story's going to print?" He had somehow gotten it into his head that Buffy was taking pictures for the school paper or some music journal, even though she'd been up front about working on a class project.

"Uh…" Buffy quickly looked away from Kyle and crouched over her camera bag. It and the camera had seen better days. She could actually hear the old brown leather bag creak and crackle when she was in a quiet room. "I have no idea, honestly." She flashed him a quick smile over her shoulder. Maybe if these pictures came out well she actually would try shopping them to one of the school papers. And then Kyle would have his story. Wee.

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his back pocket and sticking out his chest.

It was all Buffy could do not to roll her eyes. Really?

A sudden hand on her shoulder startled her. She sat down hard. "Ow!"

"Sorry, Buff." Frowning, Oz extended a hand. "Didn't think I'd surprise you."

Buffy let him pull her up. "Yeah, well, it happens." Then tripped over her feet and stumbled right into him.

Oz still had the one hand. He braced her shoulder with the other. "You okay?"

"Momentary lightheadedness. But I'm good." She slowly pulled away as the wave of dizziness passed.

Hand still gripping hers, Oz raised an eyebrow. "Sure?"

"Hello..." She took a quick glance over her shoulder but Kyle had wandered away. "...Slayer."

"You're sure."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oz. Seriously, it _does_ happen. Just not often. Like the head cold last month."

" 'Kay." He let her go, his seriousness turning into a smile.

"Are you always this overprotective?"

Oz shrugged. "Just with people I like."

Grinning, Buffy knelt over her camera bag again. "So Xander working a construction site must give you palpitations."

"Not really."

Buffy paused and gave him a puzzled look. "How does that make sense?"

"When Xander's working a site, he's doing what he knows. And he's good at it. Why should I worry?"

"Because it's, like, super dangerous? I don't know."

"Yeah but…it's what he does."

"So, what, you worry when he, I dunno…" Buffy hunted for a random un-Xander-like task. "…has to actually read a book during research sessions?"

Hands jammed into his pockets, Oz rocked back on his heels. "Oh, yeah. Brain-fry is more common than you think."

Chuckling, Buffy finished fixing the bag and missed his small smile. She threw the strap over her shoulder and stood up. "So why are you worried about me? There's no brain-fry here."

"Sure there is. You're worried about your photography grade."

Buffy bit the inner part of her lower lip as her hand fiddled with a thread that had worked itself loose of the old leather. "Yeah, well…"

"So I worry."

"That still seems sorta silly, Oz."

"Nervous people can do dangerous things."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "What do you think I'm going to do, strangle myself with the camera strap? As if the thing doesn't weigh a ton already."

"You could accidentally splatter yourself with chemicals when you develop the pictures."

"Gee, thanks Oz. As if my grade wasn't worry-making enough."

He cracked a smile. "You asked."

"Well, that'll learn me."

One of the band members, Alexis, approached them. The neck of her guitar bumped and nodded over her head in its soft case. "Hey Buffy. Still hanging out?"

Buffy winced. "I kinda got caught by Kyle."

"Ouch. If it makes you feel better, the last time I saw him he was on his way to go primp in the bathroom. I think he's got a photo shoot or mall opening or a baby-kissing competition. Something like that."

"Excellent. That gives me plenty of time to scoot!"

"So do you still need to run or do you have time to eat?" Alexis glanced at Oz, who shrugged.

"Um..." Buffy glanced down at her watch. "I've got time. Where were you guys headed?"

"Probably just pizza. There's not much else that really works on a starving artist's budget."

It wasn't too long before Buffy was piled into Oz's van with Alexis, Marco the other guitarist, and Camille their keyboard player, for the drive into town. They had a drummer, Norm, but he wouldn't be out of class until 3 pm. Just like all any other 10th graders. There was also another singer, a young woman named Skylar, but she wasn't around.

"Wait, so where's Skylar again?"

Marco, sitting in the front seat, turned around. "One her way down from Washington."

Buffy could feel the question on her face. "Gig?"

"Family."

"Oh. Good, bad, indifferent?"

Marco grinned suddenly. "We'll find out tonight."

"_Oh._ And Kyle will be there tonight, right?"

There was a collective sigh and nod, even from Oz.

Buffy waited until they were sitting around a scratched and chipped Formica table at the pizza place before bringing up Kyle again. "So if he's so annoying, why do you guys keep playing with him."

"Fit," was Oz's answer.

Alexis, Marco and Camille nodded. Camille, with red hair brighter and richer than Willow's, added, "And he's really, really good."

"He can't be all ego," Alexis said prosaically.

Buffy's brows rose. "Oh?"

"Yeah. We're real small potatoes. We're not looking to record. Not as a group. But Kyle still shows up for more rehearsals than not, and if he signs on for a gig he doesn't break it to do something else. He may have an ego the size of LA county, but he's reliable and steady."

"Maybe he does it just for the ego stroke?"

The bandmates looked at each other, consulting silently. The shrugged, nodded—went back to their pizza.

"Hey, so I've been meaning to tell you how cool your camera is, Buffy," Marco said. "Very retro."

"I know, right?" She lifted it by the straps into her lap and pried the case half-open. "Very Natalie Portman in that movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart. But without the childbearing."

There were nods all around. Except from Oz, sitting next to her, who seemed lost in thought. Or maybe it was lost in chords. His fingers were moving though his eyes were far away. Buffy bumped his hip with her own. "Earth to bassist."

"I'm here."

"Yeah, sure."

Oz caught her eye. "I heard every word you said."

"Uh huh."

"You were comparing your camera to the one Novalee uses in _Where the Heart Is_. It's very similar." At her frown, he explained, "That's Natalie Portman's character in the movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart."

Buffy frowned. "Really? I thought her name was, like, America or something."

"Her baby."

"Hunh. So I guess you were listening."

"Always."

Grinning, she said, "One of the things I've always liked about you, Oz. That, and you don't freak out."

Alexis snorted. "It's not possible. He's totally unflappable. We know, we've tried to flap him." Each of them wearing mixed expressions of mischief, frustration and pure amusement, Alexis, Marcos and Camille took turns telling Buffy of every failed prank and averted disaster until she turned beet red from laughing.

* * *

Some nights it was hard to remember that she was there to take pictures for her Intro to Photography class. The band was that good.

It was hard to believe that Willow had introduced her to them just two years ago. It was hard to believe that she'd had to go without this for a whole year while Oz had been in Tibet doing his de-wolfifying thing.

If Kyle ever got a look at her work he'd know in an instant that she wasn't working for a paper. Her pictures were rarely of an individual, and if she had even one of the whole band she'd be surprised. It was the pieces that made the whole that fascinated her. Buffy had dozens of pictures of the line of Kyle's throat, his tendons standing up, or just the shadow his jaw cast along his neck. She could make a flipbook of the pictures she had of Oz, Marco and Alexis playing. Camille and Norman were the only two who got regular closeups. Their expressions, each wildly different from the other, were utterly compelling, especially Camille. Buffy had lots of pictures of Norman's hands at work—his sticks turned into butterfly wings on glossy paper. Nearly all of Buffy's pictures of Skylar were of her running her hands through her hair, or crushing it in a fist, or tugging on it.

There were times when she wished she had a video camera to capture the more subtle movements. She made up for it by snapping picture after picture. Nights like this, when the band was really in a groove, she was extremely grateful to her professor for lending her the camera. Old as it was, it actually had really great shutter speed. She clicked away all night, light-headed and giddy on the euphoria of the music. When they were playing, she loved the band. Really, really loved them. Group-hug loved them. Teeny-bopper fangirls had nothing on her right now. If Willow walked in, mid-set, and told her that all of the instruments had been bewitched and the band was tangling her in magical, musical web, Buff would have believed her in an instant. And the best part? The best part was she went back to her dorm with that euphoria humming in her veins. It had almost been enough to free her from her coffee addiction for one morning. Almost.

The first set was winding down. Even at only 35 or 40 minutes, it was obvious how draining playing was on everyone. Oz and his bandmates looked just as enthused as their audience felt, but they were often covered in sweat and the singers wouldn't speak unless they absolutely had to. Everyone would chug from their water bottles. Norman, Skylar and Marcos usually whipped out terry cloths to wipe down their sweaty foreheads and necks.

"We'll be back in ten," Skylar said into her mic, a translucent bead of sweat on the tip of her nose. Buffy snapped a picture. "Don't go too far."

People got up and stretched; they checked their cell phones. Some went upstairs to use the bathroom or get a drink. Buffy climbed on-stage to gush like a teenager in front of her favorite pop-star. "I know I said this yesterday, but, seriously? Best set yet, guys. You're all truly amazing."

Kyle beamed. "We were great, weren't we?" With a smile that could be used to land planes on an overcast night, there was not even a hint of modesty in him. By comparison, Skylar was humble and the rest of the band were self-sacrificing ascetics.

"Do you guys mind if I take shots of your instruments while you're not using them?"

No one did. Kyle tried to make a joke about taking pictures of his vocal chords, but they all pretended not to hear him.

Behind the lens, it was almost surprising to learn just how appealing the instruments were on their own. The foot-pedal and snare drum were almost as sexy without Norman working them. Camille's keyboard seemed to glow, and Marcos' guitar radiated good humor. Then again she was feeling a little dizzy, so it was always possible that the "glow" and "good humor" were hallucinations. The microphones, however, were slightly stinky, sweaty messes. Buffy wrinkled her nose but took a few pictures anyway. _"Take as many pictures as you can,"_ her professor liked to say._ Often the camera sees things you don't._

She was already thinking of the shots she would take of Alexis' guitar and Oz's bass, both sitting beside the stage near the door, when the Oz himself appeared. "Hey, Buff, you want anything? I'm going upstairs."

Buffy turned slowly, first her head and then her body, to avoid a new wave of dizziness. It only helped a little. Squinting, she looked down at Oz. "No. I'm okay. I left my water down on the floor somewhere."

"Are you sure you don't want something. You don't look good."

"It's just the lights and the euphoria. Seriously, I'm fine."

Oz's eyes narrowed but he let it go. Spying her water, he picked it up and held it up to her.

"Thanks, Oz." Buffy went to the edge of the stage and reached down for plastic bottle.

And that was the last thing she knew.

_continued in Part 2._

* * *

**AN3**: as I alluded to, Part 2 is already written. It needs to be re-eyed by me, but it will go up by next week.


	8. It Already Is pt 2

**Title:** It Already Is (2/2)  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Character(s):** Buffy, Oz, Willow, Giles  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Author's Notes:** Please see the previous chapter for summary, disclaimer, notes, etc.

* * *

"Oz, what do you mean she collapsed?" Giles shouted into the telephone.

_"Buffy was taking pictures at our gig for her photography class. She decided to take some of the instruments while were between sets. I saw her water bottle down on the floor, so I offered it to her. When she reached for it, she just kept going. I caught her shoulders, so she didn't hit her head or anything, but she's out cold."_

Giles stared at his phone. Silence reigned on the other end. After a moment he collected himself. "Where is she now, Oz?"

_"My place. After the dorm, it's the closest."_

"See if you can bring her here please. Do you need Xander to help you?"

_"I can manage, Giles. Be there in fifteen._"

"Good." He hung up then pulled the glasses from his face. Buffy. Collapsed? That was disturbing. And though for the most part he'd been his usual taciturn self, even Oz had sounded put off. That short synopsis he'd given Giles had been spoken with leashed emotion.

Fifteen minutes later, he and the others found out why. By the time Oz had carried Buffy to the couch, Willow, Tara, and Xander were sitting in the living room. With Joyce still in the hospital, Spike and Anya had been sent to babysit Dawn. Or Anya and Dawn were babysitting Spike. Giles didn't much care which way it was working out, so long as the two most immature members of their group were being overseen.

"So you're saying that Buffy had been lightheaded and dizzy earlier?" Xander said.

Oz nodded.

"And it didn't seem strange then?"

"It did, but Buffy brushed it off as momentary."

Giles waved his glasses in Oz's direction. "And you believed her?"

Oz leveled his gaze on the elder man. "She sat down too hard and she tripped on her feet. What's not to believe?"

"And there was no way of waking her?"

"You see I tried the glass of cold water to the face."

"Indeed." Sighing, Giles remembered the lingering dampness on Buffy's v-neck blouse and the water that had still been clinging to her hair when Oz brought her in. "Any other unusual behavior?"

Oz thought for a moment. He shook his head.

Giles turned. "What about you, Willow?"

"Um, well..." Tara, sitting beside her, leaned over to whisper in her ear. Willow smoothed her skirt. "I wasn't going to mention this but Tara thinks it's a good point."

"Which is?"

"That Buffy sleeps a lot these days. Not just college student sleep, but, like, I-party-hearty-till-the-break-of-dawn sleep."

Frowning, Giles said, "This semester's been no bed of roses, but I don't know that it's been that bad."

"I don't think so either!"

Tara nodded in agreement. "I mean, sometimes she stays late at the photo lab, but otherwise her schedule isn't that bad, you know?" She glanced around the gathered Scoobies, scarcely willing to meet their eyes.

Visibly restraining himself from reacting to Tara's body language, Oz turned from her and said, "She mentioned trying to make sure she was home in time to have dinner with Dawn and help her with her homework when we were figuring out the dates for her to come see the band."

Giles frowned. "So it's not her schedule. We're missing something."

"Wake-up pills for Buffy," Xander muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "Anything freaky going on with the faculty this year?"

Eyebrows drawn together, Willow said, "I'm pretty sure my lab teacher's assistant is a Karda demon." She threw up her hands as everyone started, alarmed. "Which are fairly harmless! They're perfectionists, though, so if it had done this to Buffy it would have happened in a clean-room or something equally anal."

Xander frowned. "Seriously?"

"If anyone dies in that class it'll be because they didn't wipe up the splattered water from their work area."

"When did she start looking run down?" Oz interjected.

The girls consulted. "Mid semester?" "I guess so." "But it's not even midterms yet?" "Buffy doesn't usually get crazy until just before..." "I know so..."

"So it's something else."

Giles pulled off his glasses. "Anything new happen around that time?"

Willow and Tara thought about it for a moment, sometimes looking at each other, but mostly lost in their own thoughts. "Well, except for the camera," Willow said eventually.

"What's this about a camera?"

"Buffy needed one for her photography class, a professional one, and she was all worried, y'know, because it would be an extra expense and all," Willow said. "I don't know if she mentioned it to her professor or if he overheard her or what, but he offered to let her use his."

Frowning, Oz said, "That old fashioned one she's been using?"

"Yeah."

"Giles, an object like a camera be cursed, right?"

"Absolutely. Certainly we've dealt with our fair share of cursed items over the years. I know they've usually been something of value, but nearly any inanimate object can be cursed."

"Lots of animate ones, too."

All eyes turned to Willow.

She colored. "What? It's true!"

Xander spoke for all of them when he said, "But not what we were expecting hear, Wills."

"Children! Can we focus on Buffy?" Grim-faced, Giles eyed Willow and Xander in turn. "So it sounds like we believe it was the camera. Yes? There's no evidence pointing to an alternative source?"

A look was passed around the young people. Willow said, "It looks that way. She's my roomie, and other than the camera nothing especially strange or special has happened lately. Just, y'know, regular spooky."

Tentatively raising her hand, Tara said, "But why would her professor give Buffy a cursed camera?"

Giles shrugged. "It's always possible he didn't know."

"We should ask him," Oz said. He turned to Willow. "Do you know who her photography prof is?"

She nodded. "Sure. I've picked her up from class a few times, and Buffy's always said his office is nearby. It's pretty late now. Wanna go by there tomorrow?"

He wanted to find the man now, but said nothing, nodding instead. "What do we do about Buffy in the meantime?"

Giles sighed. "She seems stable enough. If it were one of you, I'd have rushed her to hospital by now. I say we give it a few more hours and take it from there."

* * *

Willow pointed at the next corner. "Uh, that left there, to the interior of the building. His office is at the end of that hall. So that was really nice of you, staying with Giles until Buffy woke up."

Oz shrugged. "Woulda done it for anyone."

"I know. But still..." She bumped his shoulder with her own, and was pleased when a small smile crossed his face. "So she was looking pretty good when you left her?"

He nodded. "For the most part. Not at all ready to slay yet, though."

Willow bit her lower lip. "That's kinda worrying."

"Yeah."

They hit the corner and made the left. The hallway dead-ended there, branched to the left and right. "It's somewhere down one of those corridors." Willow pointed with her chin, tugging on the hem of her denim jacket. "They're both short and they dead-end in rooms, so at least it won't take long to figure out."

"Cool."

"Oh, you must be way tired, Oz! This is monosyllabic, even for you. I wish I'd thought about it. I would have brought you some of the coffee Tara made for me."

That got her a grunt.

"You're... You're not still..."

"Mad about Tara?" He glanced at Willow—who was worrying her lip. Oz shrugged. "Part of me will never be glad about it. There's a part of me that will always belong to you."

"That's...not really an answer, Oz."

"I know. I'll take this end-" He indicated the right. "You take the other, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure." Willow's was the correct end of the hall, and she called out to Oz to join her. "Look! Office hours!" She pointed at a printed sign taped to the door for a Professor Grundley. "And he's in." She was beaming until she noticed Oz's frown. "What?"

"No one's in there."

"Uh, bathroom break?"

Oz sniffed in a very obvious, noisy way that Willow might have found strange if she hadn't known he was a werewolf. He shook his head. "I don't think so. We're not the first people to be in this hallway, but none of the scents are recent. And I'm pretty sure none of them are his."

Now Willow frowned. "But you've never met him. How do you know what he smells like?"

"I don't. Not for sure. I'm guessing that Buffy's camera smells like him. At least a little. So I'm going off that."

"And nada?"

"No, there's some scent here." Oz sniffed again. "But it's old."

Willow's eyebrows drew together in speculation. "Just how old?"

He met her eyes. "Day and a half?"

"Let's go talk to Giles."

"I think we should take a look in his office first. Or maybe the dark room."

About to turn and go back down the hall, Willow paused. "Do you think there'll be some evidence that he's low-down and dirty?"

Oz shrugged. "One way to find out." He grabbed the professor's door handle and twisted the hardware out of the wood.

Willow beamed. "Buffy would be so proud."

The door swung open to reveal an average sized office, full to bursting with books, papers, trays and glass bottles sitting on top of two tables that would have looked more at home in a one of the science labs. Oz took a tentative step inside, Willow following closely behind. A few more steps in without incident and they weren't so cautious. Stopping suddenly, Oz closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Held it. Took another.

"Whatcha got there, boy?"

Oz tossed Willow a dirty look.

She winced. "Sorry! Sorry. But...well..."

He nodded. "This way." Moving confidently, despite the mess, he led her further into the cramped room.

Willow gasped when Oz placed his hand on the handle of another door. "Where'd that come from?"

"What do you mean?"

"That door. That wasn't there a minute ago."

Oz frowned. "Sure it was."

"Nuh uh. I may occasionally suffer from foot-in-mouth disease, but I passed my last vision test with flying letters over a very small red house." Willow gestured to the door with her chin. "That was just another wall. It even had sticky notes on it!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really! Didn't you see it?"  
Oz shook his head. "I had my eyes closed."

"You what?"

"Wonder what happens if I..." Oz released the round knob and stepped back from the door.

"See! See!"

"Henh." Where there had been a door was another dingy white wall with Willow's sticky notes. Oz reached for the door handle again. The door reappeared. He looked back at Willow. "What do you think?"

"Might not have anything to do with Buffy, but it doesn't look good, does it?"

He shook his head.

"Think we should check it out?"

"Unless you want to go back for reinforcements."

"Nah. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Willow, it's okay-"

"Pfft! What's he going to do, bite our heads off? That kind of stuff only happens to Xander."

Oz frowned. "Good point." He pushed open the door.

And went down to his knees when a light boom connected with his skull.

_"Oz!"_

"Who are you!" the boom wielder shouted. He was young. Maybe only a couple of years older then they were. "You can't have it! I won't give her up!

"What are you-"

Oz was on his feet and snarling before Willow could finish. He rushed the shouter, pushing him back and back and back until they rammed into a far wall.

"What are you?" The man's voice trembled.

"I should ask you that." Oz's voice was dark and thick with too many teeth. When Willow finally made it to their side, she could see how black his eyes had become. She started to reach for him, but pulled back.

He slammed the man into the wall again. Plaster and paint chips rained down on them all. "Who are you?"

"P-professor Grundley's s-son. I'm his son!"

"You're the only person that's been here for two days-"

"How do you know that?"

"-who are you?"

"I told you-"

Oz slammed him into the wall again. "You're lying."

"Oz!" Willow did reach for him. "Don't kill him."

Wide-eyed, the man looked at Willow.

"What? I don't mind if he hurts you some." She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Apparently you're a liar."

"What did you do to Buffy?" Oz asked, snarling.

"Who?"

This time chunks of the wall came down. Oz turned to look at Willow. "That should be hurting him more than it is."

Willow nodded, eyes narrowed. "A lot more." But the man only winced. "What are _you_?"

"Tell me what your boyfriend is and maybe I'll share."

"He's not my boyfriend." "We're not dating." Willow and Oz answered simultaneously. The question seemed to make Oz angrier. "What. Did you do. To Buffy Summers?" He took his time to enunciate, applying more pressure with each word he spoke.

Now the man turned red. Now he cried out. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Liar."

Something in his shoulder creaked. He screamed.

Willow took in a sharp breath. "Oz..."

"Tell me," he pressed as if she hadn't spoken.

"I just gave her the camera! I gave her the camera."

"But," Willow began, "Buffy said her professor gave it to her."

"I am her professor, you idi—_Aaah!_"

"Oz! Oz, don't hurt him that much!" Willow flitted around the two men. "Oz, if he passes out he can't tell us what happened with Buffy."

That at least seemed to get through. Oz released the pressure and the man, Professor Grundley, dropped to the floor. He curled into a ball, trying to protect his wounded shoulder. "What did you do! Do you know how much energy this one took? I never thought I'd get someone so strong and you've gone and _broken my shoulder!_" he screamed.

Oz snarled.

Willow grabbed his arm, surprised and scared of the coiled muscle she found there. "We need him. We need him."

When he turned to look at her, his eyes were still black, but the extra teeth were gone. Grim-faced, he nodded. Oz bent down and grabbed Professor Grundley by his good arm. "What did you do to Buffy and how do we fix it."

"I told you. I... A_h this hurts_... I gave her the camera."

"And what does the camera do?"

"It transfers the energy of the user to another source, like the picture or a location."

"Or to you."

"Yes, to me."

"How do we fix it?"

* * *

"Oz. Oz, where are you—? Willow! W-what's going on?" Giles demanded as both Willow and Oz barreled past him and into the living room. "Where is Oz going? What are you two doing?"

"I've got it!" Willow help up the old-fashioned camera. She wrestled it out of its carrying bag. "Where do you wanna do it?"

Oz shook his head. "Don't think it matters."

"Use the van?"

He nodded. "Sounds good."

They sprinted back out again.

"What in the name of all..." Shaking his head, Giles followed them out.

Oz had already climbed into his van, but Willow was crouched near the front tires. She popped up and gave Oz the okay. He turned the key in the ignition, shifted into Drive, and very deliberately rolled forward.

The crunch and crack of glass, wood and metal was loud on Giles' quiet street. He turned to Willow. "Did Oz just crush Buffy's camera."

"Yup!"

"I take it then that our earlier conjecture was right. It was the camera."

Willow nodded sharply. "Yup."

"And did the professor know?"

Willow rocked back on her heels. "Unfortunately. Seems like he uses it to steal the vitality from the people he lends it to. He kinda hit the jackpot with Buffy."

Giles snorted. "I just bet he did. How did you stop him? Why didn't you return for reinforcement?"

"Uh...Oz was kinda able to persuade him."

Frowning, Giles looked down at Willow who was very attentively watching Oz roll back and forth over the already flat camera. "Should I ask...?"

"Oh! He's alive. He may never use his right shoulder again, but, uh, I'm sure it's nothing a doctor can't fix."

"Willow..."

"He's alright, Giles. I swear. Would I lie to you. About this!" she quickly tacked on.

Giles' frown remained in place, but eventually he sighed, his shoulder slumping. "I shall check on Buffy then. Seeing as the destruction of that camera should help to alleviate her illness, please make certain that no part of it survives?"

"On it!" The last thing Giles saw before he turned to go inside was Willow striding forward, purple and gold skirt twining around her calves as she called out to Oz. "Hey, how many was that?"

"Six!"

Gesturing for him to stop, Willow waited until the van stopped moving before hopping inside. "What say we make it an even ten?"

"Sounds good." Oz put the van into gear.

"Hey, Oz."

"Uh huh?"

"That was kinda scary. Back in Grundley's office."

Oz took his eyes off the road to look at her. "Didn't mean to scare you. Guess I was more concerned than I realized."

"Yeah. Tell me about it." She studied her hands for a couple of passes, before saying, "So, like, everything's under control, right? That wasn't a sign of impending wolfiness, was it?"

Oz put the van in Park. "Well...we are about a week from the full moon. So my control is less than ideal. But I don't expect to get into anymore situations quite like this any time soon either."

Willow nodded. "Yeah. I mean how often do people try to kill Buffy anyway?" She scrunched up her nose. "Maybe that wasn't a good question."

Oz smiled, putting the car back into Drive. He rolled forward. "It wasn't the kill so much as hurt. Buffy's life is on the line a lot. Mostly, though, they just want her dead. There's usually less usury involved."

"I guess."

"And that makes ten."

"Oh. Yay." Willow did a little chair-dance. "Um, so...do you still...do you still worry about me like that?"

Oz turned to face Willow. "You mean enough to go wolfy at inappropriate times?"

"Kinda."

He didn't answer. He stared and he stared and he stared at her. But he said nothing.

"Oh."

Oz righted himself in his seat and parked the van. "Let's go see how Buffy's doing."

* * *

Walking to her house, the late afternoon sun sifting through the bright green of spring leaves, Buffy bumped her hip against Oz's. "So thanks for not only rescuing me from a nasty goose-egg when I collapsed, but also from the clutches of an evil professor."

He shrugged. "No big."

"Ha! No big he says. Ha! Ha ha ha." Buffy spun on her heel, walking backwards so she could face Oz. "I appreciate it. Especially the goose-egg part." She touched the back of skull as if the wound had formed after all. "Do you know how hard it is to sleep with one of those things growing back there?"

Oz grinned.

"It's a shame about Professor Grundley, though. I mean, not just the evil soul-stealing stuff. 'Cause that's always not-a-good-time, but now, like, all those awesome pictures I took of the band. Nowheresville. I'll never be able to make it up to Kyle." She turned around to walk right again.

"Kyle won't mind. Much."

Buffy snorted. "Uh huh, sure. I just bet." They stopped in front of the house, dark and quiet and obviously unoccupied. "Dawnie must still be with Anya and Spike at the Magic Box. She didn't go to a friend's after school, did she?"

"Not that I know of." Oz shrugged. "Doubtful, all things considered. Likely Giles didn't have a chance to tell them you were okay before we left his place."

"Yeah, he was all let's-research-evil-artifact happy last time I saw him."

"Wanna grab something? My treat."

Buffy's face lit up. "After the last two days, I could definitely eat. Especially now that I'm so well rested. But you don't have to pay. I've got money. Somewhere."

Oz shrugged. "Just...feel like treating."

"Yay!" Buffy grinned, and Oz couldn't help but smile, too.

Fin[ite]


	9. The End of Everything

**Title:** The End of Everything You Thought You Knew About "Normal"  
**Series:** Closet  
**Author:** Vashti  
**Character(s):** Buffy, Oz  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Immediately following the events of It Already Is, Oz treats Buffy to a friendly meal.  
**Length:** ~1800  
**Disclaimer:** Only the words are mine, and that's probably up for philosophical debate.  
**Dedication:** It's been almost 2 years since I posted a story for this series. If you're still reading, give yourself not only a gold star but a cookie of your choice, too!  
**Notes:** This was written for the fanfic100 challenge. Please note that this is a non-linear AU set after Oz returns to Sunnydale for the second time. These stories are not always chronological.

* * *

The End of Everything You Thought You Knew About 'Normal'  
by Vashti

"So where do you wanna go?" Buffy asked. She was, once again, several steps ahead of him and walking backwards.

Oz shrugged. "Up to you."

"Yeah, but you're treating so, like, your choice."

"I dunno, Buff. I think the treated gets to make all the hard decisions."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him and he smiled. "I'm the one who's been unconscious for...for..." She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "How long _was_ I out?"

Oz shrugged again. "At least 24 hours."

Buffy swore softly under her breath, pausing long enough for Oz to catch up to her and then get a few steps ahead himself. He stopped—waited for her to turn around and come back to his side.

When she didn't, he went to stand by her. "You okay?"

"Yeah...yeah. It's just, y'know, really weird. Slayers don't exactly do out-of-commission you know."

Oz nodded as they began walking again.

"Thanks for everything, by the way," she said. Oz could see her looking at him in his peripheral vision. He shrugged and nodded.

"Giles didn't give me a lot of details and junk, but, y'know, 24 hours under... Wow."

Oz caught her hand in his and gave it a brief squeeze. "Everything's okay. Me and Willow handled it."

"For which I am seriously grateful." Looking at him sideways, she said, "Maybe _I_ should be the one getting _you_ snackage."

When he didn't answer, she said, "Is that the silence of 'Heck yeah you should!' or the silence of 'Are you seriously asking me about this.'?"

"Latter."

"Ah. Okay. Yeah, I am asking you why you're taking me out when you did all the hard work."

Oz shrugged. "It's been rough lately. I want to."

Buffy's face lit with a grin. "Works for me." The street they'd been walking along switched quickly from residential to commercial within two blocks. Buffy hadn't noticed the change. Or even where they were headed, for that matter.  
"Oz, where are we going?"

"Thought you might like some anonymity for a little while."

Buffy smiled. "Couldn't hurt."

* * *

Buffy looked around, studying the décor of the place that Oz had surreptitiously led her to. _"Wait...we're here?"_

Silence had been holding sway between them since they'd given their orders to the waiter, even though Buffy could feel Oz's eyes on her. She didn't mind. He didn't want anything from her, not even for her to respond. Buffy hadn't realized how much she'd relied on the comfortable space Oz made for her—for everyone really—until he'd left. Not that he hadn't called on her in crisis. Consulting the Slayer was pretty much standard operating procedure in an apocalypse. But during the downtime...

The thing about being the Slayer was there wasn't a whole lot of downtime. She'd railed against the responsibility in LA. She'd tried to escape it when she and her mother had first moved to Sunnydale. And now she had a new almost-grown-up baby sister, a sick mom, a grade point average and the fate of the world to be concerned about.

Buffy stretched her arms across the table, invading Oz's half of it. "This is so nice."

"Worth the price of admission?"

"Um..." Buffy gnawed on her lip, trying to remember exactly how she'd come to be at the very swank cafe in the first place. "Hey, why here?"

Oz eyed her, but didn't mention her topic change. "Why not here?"

"It's kinda...a lot."

Oz shrugged. "I like it. It's different."

With a sly smile, Buffy asked, "Sooo, was this, like, yours and Will's fave place?"

"No."

His answer was so sharp, she winced. "Sorry."

Oz shook his head. "That's not it, no worries. It just...this wasn't her Willow's kind of place."

Buffy frowned. "Really? It looks Willow-y enough." She twisted in her seat, taking in the décor. "I mean, yeah, fancy-pants, but Willow isn't anti-fancy."

"But it made her uncomfortable."

"I could see that." Buffy nodded. "And you didn't think I'd mind?"

"Do you?"

Buffy gnawed on her lower lip. "I feel bad for saying I don't, because I do mind that you're spending muy money on me. But, uh..." She rolled her eyes around, taking in the décor again without moving her head. "Yeah. This is the style of outing that I used to be accustomed to. Which is so out my budget and time range. Is this what happens when people have kids?"

"First couple of years, I would imagine," Oz said.

Buffy grinned. "Been thinking about it?"

"Maybe."

Buffy waggled her brows. "With Willow?"

"Not everything revolves around Willow, Buffy."

She colored. "Sorry."

"S'okay." He shifted in his seat. "Admittedly, a lot revolves around her still..." Oz trailed off as the waiter returned with their drinks and warm pastries. "...but not everything."

Buffy nodded. She pulled at her warm low-fat cinnamon roll, unwinding it from itself. Busy looking around the cafe, she hadn't paid much attention when Oz had ordered, but she looked up now. "Now who's the California girl?"

Oz looked up from his bowl of fruit, yogurt and granola to catch her eye. He grinned. "Want some?"

"Really?"

He nodded. Buffy tore off a hunk of her cinnamon roll and dipped it in a particularly yogurty section of his treat, leaving behind a smear of cinnamon.

"Wait."

Buffy raised her eyes. "Huh?"

Oz fished out a couple of blueberries with his spoon and dropped them on top of her yogurt-and-cinnamon roll slice. "There, now you're healthy, too."

Grinning herself, Buffy gingerly lifted her "healthy" snack to her mouth, trying to take a bite before the warm bread before the yogurt could slip away. She ultimately had to get under it as the yogurt began to run along her fingertips.

"Good?"

Buffy looked up to see Oz watching her, looking as if he actually cared about her answer. Knowing Oz, he probably did. Grinning broadly, Buffy nodded. Tucking the treat into her cheek, she licked at her fingertips. She flushed, remembering herself. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Lip quirked in his signature half-smile, Oz shrugged and went back to his own food. He looked up again after she swallowed (Buffy decided it was coincidental, and not because he could hear her throat working, because, whoa, inadvertent TMI). "That was surprisingly yummy. Thanks!"

"Happy to help. Want some more?"

She almost dove right into his bowl before remembering her manners.

Oz chuckled. "Seriously, it's fine."

Making a sound of delight that reminded her of Dawn presented with a fresh stack of pancakes, Buffy dipped another section of her cooling cinnamon roll into Oz's yogurt. With the two of them working at it, the yogurt was soon gone. Buffy presented a piece of her cinnamon roll to Oz. "You want?"

"Nah, it's okay. I'm looking after my girlish figure."

She smiled. "Come on."

"It's no big. The cinnamon in the yogurt was pretty good. Besides, that's your last piece."

Buffy looked down, then shrugged. "Come on, Oz." She knew that she was whining, knew that she was even pouting, but she couldn't help it. "You're already treating me and everything. The least you could do is have some of my cinnamon roll."

He gave her a funny look, then shrugged himself. "Fine."

Buffy shrieked, surprised when he swooped down to snag the last piece of roll with his teeth. The shriek turned into a giggle as he tossed it up into the air and caught it in his mouth. She cheered.

"Thank you, thank you." Oz "bowed" from the waist.

"Xander would be proud."

"You know, I think he would." They shared a moment of mutual agreement, until Oz said, "You really should smile more. It looks good on you."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, well...doesn't feel like there's a lot to smile about anymore, what with mom and all, and Dawn. The way things are going, I'm probably going to have to move in back home."

"Still, I bet your mom would like it. If you smiled more. I doubt she wants her issues to, y'know, drag you down."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I've got my own issues for that. Apocalypti, midterms, evil teachers trying to steal my life essence."

"See."

Ducking her head, Buffy smiled. "Maybe I'll just hang out around you more often," she said, looking Oz in the eye again. "You're not half bad at the making-a-girl smile thing."

He lifted a shoulder. "What can I say, it's a gift."

Buffy's smile widened.

Signaling for their waiter with one hand and pulling out his wallet with the other, Oz said, "Wanna go back down to the club? The rest of the band was pretty worried about you when you passed out the other night."

"Omigosh! They must think I'm a totally dweeb!"

"Or seriously dehydrated. At least that's what I told them. I'll give them the update regardless, but I bet seeing you in person would be better."

Wrinkling her nose, Buffy thought about Dawn, still under the watchful eye of a former demon and a neutered vampire.

"I'm sure Willow and Tara have checked in on Dawn by now. They'll call you if there's an issue."

"Am I that obvious?" she asked.

"Just a good big sister."

"Yeah, well...that depends on the day," she said as the waiter handed Oz the check. She tried to finagle it from his hands, but he was more dextrous than he looked.

Oz snorted. He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet, folding them so that Buffy couldn't easily see the denominations, and left them under the nearly full sugar dispenser. Standing, he held his hand out to her. "C'mon, Buffy. Would I steer you wrong? On purpose?" he quickly added.

Buffy made a face. "I guess not. I mean what's the wo-" She stuttered over the words. "-wonderful thing about having musicians for friends? The live music," she said instead. "Whew, almost unleashed the apocalypse early."

Chuckling, Oz took her hand. Buffy bounced to her feet under his surprising strength, almost bumping into him. The moment left her a little breathless and flushed. She'd forgotten about his werewolf-related strength. But suddenly she remembered the way his muscles moved under his skin when he played his bass guitar. Not all that strength came from his supernatural side. Some of it was just him.

"Earth to Buffy, you there?"

"Yeah...sorry. Just thinking thinky-thoughts."

"Sorry, thinky-thoughts not on the menu for today," Oz said as he gently but determinedly maneuvered her toward the entrance of the cafe. "You'll have to stop by some other time for those."

Chuckling, Buffy chose to ignore the little zing that ran through her from the places where Oz's hands rested warm on her shoulders.

Fin[ite]


End file.
